


these memories (like dying embers)

by theoneandonlybunny



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Character Death, Gen, the story starts 6 years before the musical, there is no real shipping in this, this story is about how usnavi finds his own path and it deals frankly with death and grief, warning y'all now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneandonlybunny/pseuds/theoneandonlybunny
Summary: "while a plank of wood tenderly floatsin the Ozama’s warm waterslike a hand saying helloor maybe good-bye."
-- Frank Beaz, Santo Domingo (translated)





	1. Legion Fever

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I've loved In the Heights for almost a year now, so when I went trolling through AO3, I was surprised that this wasn't already the subject of a fic on here. This fic deals strongly with grief and character growth and identity issues. In the name of full disclosure, I should mention here that while my boyfriend is the NYC-born son of DR immigrants, I am not, and I fully accept responsibility for anything I get wrong. 
> 
> (I do a lot of research, though, so I hope I don't get anything too badly wrong.)
> 
> I barely know enough Spanish to order myself a cup of coffee at the moment, and definitely not enough to be confident where I place accent marks. I plan to go back to learning Spanish, as I'll be graduating college soon, but I am not a native Spanish speaker. I grew up speaking English, and then I took Mandarin Chinese through school.

Maria de la Vega was the first to get sick, just after Thanksgiving.

She was a hard worker, a dedicated partner to her husband, Federico, and to her son, Usnavi. She and her husband ran a store, and while they hoped their son, Usnavi, would take over for them some day, he was still getting his education – and that was something they wanted him to keep doing.

Maybe they couldn’t afford to send Usnavi to college, not with their little bodega, but there were plenty of ways for an eager young man to get his education, and she firmly believed that Usnavi would find his own way in the world.

So she focused on the store, and she focused on her son (in his last year of high school, poor kid, not a natural student but he made up for it with dedication), and so the first signs of her being sick slipped past the whole family.

Then her husband, Federico, got sick as well, and when she was caring for him, she was forced to examine her own illness.

They both had fevers, she realized, bad ones. It looked like the flu, and so she wasn’t worried – while she and Federico weren’t young anymore, they were strong. They would have to take it easy for a little bit, but they would be better soon.

“Mama, I can take care of the store while you and Papa get better,” Usnavi said, and steadily they denied him, continuing to work until even Abuela Claudia said they didn’t look good.

So they took to their beds, hoping enough rest would help.

After a few days, it became perfectly clear they weren’t getting better.

“Please, mama, let me get a doctor,” Usnavi pleaded with her. Maria shook her head, though. As sick as she and her husband were, they couldn’t afford a doctor. Doctors’ offices here, she’d quickly learned, were expensive; as new immigrants, they’d had Usnavi in the hospital, and the doctors there were cold and uncaring – the man who had delivered Usnavi had berated them for not knowing English, and for needing additional help to understand what he was saying. The bill for being lectured at had been one they’d been paying off the whole first year of Usnavi’s life, and she would not put herself and her family in that situation again for what was a simple winter flu.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, her voice a hoarse whisper as she reached up to brush Usnavi’s face. “Your papi and I, we’re strong people. You’ll see.”

Usnavi nodded numbly, unable to argue with his mother.

“And how are you eating?” Maria asked, her brow crinkling. “You have enough food, si?”

“Si,” Usnavi responded. “Abeula Claudia asked me over later for dinner. She said she was going to give me something to bring home to you guys as well.”

“Bless her,” Maria responded, “bless her. How is the store doing? Have you been taking inventory to see what needs reordering?”

“Yes, mama,” Usnavi answered dutifully, and in a rush of emotion Maria drew her son back to her and kissed the top of his forehead, the way she used to do when he was younger and shorter than she was.

“You are a good boy, my son,” she said. “Thank you. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

“Any time, mama,” he responded, blushing at the unexpected affection. “Just… get better.”

She shooed him out of the room, then. He needed to get back to the store if he wanted to sell anything, and she needed to rest a little bit more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He brought them dinner late, after he’d closed up the store for the night, and they struggled to sit up in their beds to eat it. The dinner was simple – beans and rice, with chicken and plantains. Maria couldn’t eat much, and neither could Federico, but they tried anyway. A sick body needed good food if it was going to get better, after all, and Abuela Claudia’s food was some of the best in the neighborhood.

(Her husband and her son sang the praises of her own food, but Maria was not so prideful that she couldn’t recognize the results of another woman’s hard work and skill.)

She drifted off shortly after eating, but heard snippets of the conversation between Usnavi and his father.

“—how are you guys doing? Like, really doing?”

Federico paused, and then coughed hard, the vibrations from his lungs shaking her and the bed.

“Your mama and I, we aren’t doing so well,” he admitted. The confession was hard on him, and Maria could hear what it cost him to make it. “I am starting to think this is no seasonal bug.”

“Let me get you both to a doctor,” Usnavi pleaded. “The clinic down the road, the emergency room, anyone.”

“No.” Federico turned, and coughed again. “The doctors in this country, they have no heart, not like the ones back home. I won’t have you drain the shop of what little we have so a man can insult us and put us in debt.”

Usnavi wanted to protest, she knew he did, but he dared not to, not to his father. His father was the man of the house, and while Usnavi often disagreed with his father, he held too much respect for the man to outright challenge him on most things.

“But you should not be in here too long,” Federico said. “The air in this room will make you sick, too. Go, catch up on homework. You could even listen to that terrible music you play, so long as you don’t disturb us. Just shoo.”

“Alright, papa,” Usnavi said, and Maria heard him leave the room, the steps themselves sounding hesitant and scared.

Maria tossed on the bed, shaking off some of the fever-sweat soaked sheets, and fell back asleep.

She didn’t hear Abuela Claudia come in later. She didn’t hear her son’s gasp as he felt her forehead, and she didn’t hear Usnavi’s anguished cry when she didn’t wake up as he shook her.

She didn’t hear the emergency crews coming up the stairs of the apartment they had, and she didn’t hear those crews take her husband as well.

On the way down, she woke up briefly. Being carried by a strange man – their stairs were too narrow for a stretcher or a backboard – she panicked, and then saw her son, watching afraid.

“Usnavi,” she cried out weakly, reaching out as far as she could.

“Mama,” he called back, and grabbed her hand. “Mama, I’m here. I love you.”

“I love you too, my son.”

She lost sight of him, though, and lost the strength to keep looking as she was brought out of her house, where she was strapped to a stretcher and into an ambulance. Maria panicked, becoming nearly insensible with confusion and the chaotic holes in the information she could gather.

Just as they were about to close the doors, Usnavi hopped in the ambulance as well, and she quieted. He held her hand on the ride, and while she was still concerned about her husband, she was less worried now that her son was there. Usnavi was such a quiet, clever boy. He would look out for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Usnavi was filling out his mother’s forms for her as he sat in the waiting room, lost at the sheer lack of information about his parents that he didn’t have. How was he supposed to know his parents’ Social Security numbers? How were they going to pay for all of this?

He sat in that waiting room for what felt like hours before Benny and Nina walked through the doors. Mr. and Mrs. Rosario were just a few steps behind them, and Mrs. Rosario pulled Usnavi into a large hug before Mr. Rosario clapped Usnavi on the back.

“Hey, man,” Benny began, pulling Usnavi into a half hug, half handshake sort of thing. “How are they?”

“Not doing so well,” Usnavi admitted. “The nurse said their fevers were really bad, but they didn’t say much of anything else.”

“And how are you?” Nina asked, concern writ large on his ‘little sister’s face. “Abuela Claudia said that you were pretty torn up.”

“Abuela Claudia was right,” Usnavi admitted, his voice small and weak. “I just… I know my dad’s going to be pissed, and I haven’t seen him yet, but I couldn’t just let them go without.”

“Bro, you did the right thing,” Benny said. He and Nina looked at each other, and they sat down next to Usnavi. The chairs were small and uncomfortable, and the wooden arms dug into their sides, but Nina rested her head on Usnavi’s ribs, and Benny looped an arm around Usnavi’s neck. Mr. Rosario gently took the forms from him, filling out a little more than Usnavi could.

Whatever the future was going to hold, Usnavi knew he wouldn’t have to face it without them.

Then a doctor in a white coat walked into the waiting room and asked for him by his last name.


	2. Just a Room Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usnavi sees his parents while they're in the hospital, and his friends and family come to support him.

Usnavi stood up shakily, almost staggering forward a little when Benny reached up and squeezed his arm. He smiled nervously, and then kept walking.

The doctor led him to his parents’ rooms. They were in ICU, their rooms right next to each other, and they both looked terrible in their sleep, the bright lights of the hospital and their own illnesses stealing the color from their skins. There was a giant beige box on both of their doors, and they had signs over them that said ‘isolation’. There were steel poles with odd-looking bags of liquid hanging from them, and lines in those bags that presumably went to his parents.

Usnavi shrunk into himself a little. At 18, he knew, theoretically, that his parents were people, and he’d watched them struggle his entire life, but he’d never seen them this sick before. It scared him, and when he looked back to the doctor, the doctor seemed to understand that.

“I’m Dr. Johnson,” she said, her dark eyes full of understanding. “How old are you, son?”

“18, ma’am,” he stuttered back. “How – how are they?”

Her face fell, and she tucked a textured piece of hair behind her ear.

“They’re not doing that well, Mr. de la Vega. They both have severe fevers, and there’s no telling how long they had them. Right now, we’re trying to break those fevers while we’re waiting on some lab tests. The x-rays suggest that they both have pneumonia.”

Usnavi cringed twice – once when she said pneumonia, and once when she called him ‘Mr. de la Vega’. Mr. de la Vega was his father.

“So why are they in isolation? Is the pneumonia contagious?”

The doctor shook her head.

“No, but currently they’re both very weak. We don’t want to take the chance that we might introduce anything new while they’re both so sick. You can go in to see them, but you’ll need to wear isolation gear. One of the nurses will help you into it. It’s only until they get stronger. Now, I know you said you’re 18, but are there any relatives that you can stay with while your parents are in the hospital?”

Usnavi nodded numbly, and then whispered ‘Abuela Claudia’ before clearing his throat and repeating her name.

The doctor looked relieved, slightly, and then turned back to his parents.

“I won’t lie to you. Right now, it’s extremely touch and go. We’ve been throwing everything we have at these fevers, and they still aren’t going down the way we’d like them to. But once we get the fevers to go down, the rest of the way should be easier.”

“That’s… that’s good,” Usnavi said. “I’m sorry, is there anything else? Can I see them?”

“There is,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry, but in an hour, we dim the lights for the patients and we ask all visitors to leave the ICU. I’ll see if you can stay a little bit later, but you will have to go home tonight.”

Usnavi nodded.

“Can I go tell my friends that, and then come back and spend a few minutes with them?”

“Of course,” Dr. Johnson said. “Just let the head nurse, Jackie over there, know when you wanna see them.”

“Gracias.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Usnavi went back out to the waiting room, Abuela Claudia was out there too, with Benny and the Rosarios. She’d been babysitting when he’d asked for her help; she’d felt comfortable leaving Sonny for a few minutes to see how Usnavi’s parents were, but not for a long period of time.

They’d come back, though, and they’d sent her to go in their place. Usnavi’s aunt and uncle would be there in the morning, when they weren’t both falling over exhausted from work.

Abuela Claudia opened her arms as she saw him, and Usnavi immediately went to them, resting his head on her shoulders as he held back tears.

“They’re in a bad state, both of them, but the doc expects them to get better if the fever can break. I can go in, but the doc is being real picky about how I’m let in so that my parents don’t get worse. This part of the hospital closes in like an hour, so I have until then.”

“Then go,” Mr. Rosario said, “we’ll still be here when you’re back.”

Usnavi nodded, somewhat gratefully, but he was still hesistant to leave Abeula Claudia’s arms. She gave him another firm hug, and then he mustered the courage to go back into the ICU.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Usnavi didn’t even have a chance to walk up to the head nurse. She saw him coming, and when she did, she stood up from the desk where she was filling out paperwork.

“Follow me, baby,” Jackie said, and she grabbed a gown and a mask out of the beige box that was on his mother’s door. She put them on him, making sure that everything was covered. “You can’t take these off at any point while you’re in either room, and there’s a place in the middle where you can take these off and put them in the trash. It’ll take a little bit for me to get in to you, but if you need anything, there are buttons you can press on the bed right next to where your parents are sleeping. You got all that?”

“Yeah, sure,” Usnavi said, like she was a teacher who wanted to move on to the next subject. In truth, he was incredibly nervous about even being near them, but he knew that he had to. If either of his parents woke up in the next hour, they’d wake up in a strange, blindingly white room with no recollection of how they got here.

If that wouldn’t freak a person out, he didn’t know what would.

The nurse opened the door to his mother’s room first, and Usnavi stepped in, immediately going to her bedside. Her hair, always tied out of her face so she could concentrate when she worked the bodega, was now lying loosely around her head on the pillow, and Usnavi had the strange and sudden urge to tie it back, so it might look like she was only taking a light siesta.

Instead, he held her hand with latex-covered palms, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, which stayed imprinted on the inside of his mask. He felt himself tear up, and then looked to see that there was blood on her pillow and around her mouth. His stomach sank, and even how scared he was, he knew that this had been the right decision.

Usnavi pulled the sheets up around his mother, thinking that she might get cold, unknowingly tucking her in.

“Please, get better, mama,” he asked, his voice thin and pleading. “I want to see your smiling face again.”

He stayed there for a few minutes, continuing to ask her to get better, but when it became clear that she was not going to wake up soon, he left quietly. He still needed to visit with his dad, and then he’d have to come back tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Usnavi had a harder time seeing his father sick. His mother being sick hurt him, yes, in the way that he loved her and he wanted her to be happy and healthy, but his father had always been his star, the man who he wanted to become. Danilo had brought his new family to a new country, worked himself past the edge of his abilities, and had given them (and the community) something solid to depend on: a small corner store.

His father, it seemed, was always quietly working, always trying to give his family a solid place to stand, and that the man was brought low felt harsh and cruel and unfeeling.

“I’m sorry, papa,” Usnavi whispered, hanging his head like he’d accidentally broken a window playing baseball. “I know what you said, but I couldn’t follow it. I hope you can forgive me. I’ll find a way for us to work it off, I promise.”

Usnavi’s eyes started to prickle with tears, but he bit it back and hunched over. He didn’t cry, but he especially didn’t cry in front of his father. Instead, he reached out and grabbed his father’s forearm. Usnavi tried to avoid jostling the man too much, but he squeezed lightly, trying to find some way, any way, to tell his father that he was here and that he loved the man.

Too soon, Usnavi’s hour with his parents was up. As Usnavi left the ward, he saw the head nurse, still filling out paperwork.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick and timid, “but is there any way you could put my parents together? In the same room? They – they’ve been together for 30 years now, and my father turns 45 next month. They’ve never been apart. They have the same thing, so it’s not like they’ll make each other worse.”

Jackie the head nurse shook her head.

“I’m sorry, baby, but the rooms are too small for us to have two patients in an isolation room. We’ll look into that after their fevers have broken, but for right now, they’re going to have to be in separate rooms.”

That would make them both worried. His parents’ love for each other had been the foundation of their family; no matter how badly they had it, they had it together. If either one of his parents woke up and couldn’t find the other, they’d worry, and they’d stay worried until they saw the other again.

“In that case, do you have any Spanish-speaking nurses here? Anyone fluent?”

“We do,” Jackie said. “Is Spanish their first language?”

Usnavi nodded.

“They immigrated from the DR just before I was born. They have a pretty good grasp on English, but they aren’t… they aren’t as comfortable in it, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Jackie said, smiling reassuringly. “We have a couple of people in the ward who can speak Spanish fluently. I’ll make sure they’re assigned to your parents’ rooms. They’re in good hands, young man.”

That piece of news did actually lift Usnavi’s spirits a little.

“Before you go, I just wanna get something. In case we need to contact you, what's the best number to reach you at?"

Usnavi thought for a few minutes, and then wrote down two numbers -- his and Abuela Claudia's. 

"If you can't reach me here, you can call this number and she'll get the message to me." 

The nurse thanked him, and Usnavi walked out of the wing.

“Usnavi, how are they?” Mrs. Rosario asked, when she saw him come out, and the group (which had been trying to read some of the variously dated magazines) immediately looked up.

“I didn’t get a chance to speak with either of them,” Usnavi said, shrugging. “But the nurse here seems on the level, so that’s good.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” Benny said, standing up and walking over to sling an arm around Usnavi’s shoulders. “Your parents will still be here then, possibly even doing better, and you’ll be better to see them after some rest.”


	3. Flatline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usnavi learns that life is only sometimes a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: character death. 
> 
> Also, sorry I've been gone! I graduated! Got a job, moved for work, and now I'm paying both mine and my parents' bills. It's been... busy.

The group went back to Abuela Claudia’s after leaving the hospital. Usnavi wanted to go and open the store up again, maybe grab any late-night stragglers who needed this or that for the morning, but Mr. Rosario calmly and firmly declared that a bad idea.

“You’re looking for something mindless to focus on right now,” Mr. Rosario said, “but the store isn’t mindless and you know it. If you go in now, you might give someone way too much change, and then where are you?”

Usnavi was internally a little offended – he had never given anyone the wrong change, ever – but when Mrs. Rosario and Abuela Claudia and Benny all agreed with him, Usnavi gave the idea up. Even if he wanted to, Benny was never going to let Usnavi out of his sight long enough for Usnavi to set up tonight.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered. “Not tonight. But I need to open tomorrow, or there’s not gonna be anything in the till to pay for the doctor.”

Mr. Rosario frowned, and Usnavi remembered how much he’d heard the man brag about Nina’s educational achievements. Usnavi thought education was important, too, but nothing beyond high school had ever been a guarantee for him, and not starving was even more important than a fancy piece of paper that hung on a wall and collected dust.

“There will be time to figure everything out in the morning,” Mrs. Rosario declared, clapping her hands in the air. “There will be nothing on the TV at this time, but I could do with a game! What do you have around here, Usnavi?”

Usnavi went to the closet, and pulled out a bag of different board games. Monopoly was discarded immediately – Benny took it entirely too seriously – and Nina didn’t like Operation, because of the noise. The group eventually came to a consensus on the Game of Life, and the cars and tiny plastic people-shaped tokens distributed. As Usnavi read the instructions, Mrs. Rosario disappeared for a time, and then came back some time later with steaming mugs of hot chocolate that quickly disappeared.

“This thing is too small!” Mr. Rosario said, trying to pick a tiny token up, and watched as the plastic token seemed to leap from his fingertips.

“Hush, dear,” Mrs. Rosario replied, and started the game.

The group had an even mix. Nina and Benny chose education, as did Mrs. Rosario, but Mr. Rosario and Usnavi and Abuela all went right into their careers. Usnavi was confused by many of the choices, and so did the Rosario parents. Benny seemed to be trying to just pick anything, no matter what happened, and Abuela Claudia was helping Nina understand what a few of the things meant.

“Do I have to have kids?” Nina asked, when the game assigned two to her. “Can’t I… I dunno, give them back? Maybe get some more money instead?”

The adults all laughed, and Usnavi and Benny shared a couple of chuckles themselves.

“No, hija, that’s called slavery,” Mrs. Rosario said, and Nina blushed when she realized what she’d said.

The game continued on for some time, with spirits raising over the course of the night. No one had an especially bad night, but Benny somehow made out like a bandit, getting the best results of them all.

Eventually, it got too late for Nina, who had school the next day, and the Rosarios said goodbye. Benny had to leave then, too, as his mother would worry if he wasn’t home by a certain time. That left Abuela Claudia, who stayed around to help make sure the store could open the next morning.

When the tasks were done, she laid a calm, firm hand on Usnavi’s shoulder.

“I may not have much,” she began, “but I am always here if you need anyone to talk to. This is a lot to handle, even for such a strong young man as you, and some things are better said.”

Usnavi blushed, and turned away from her, unable to meet her eyes. He just… didn’t talk much about his feelings, to anyone. They were his, and everyone had their own thoughts and feelings, and as long as there wasn’t anything wrong he didn’t really feel a need to tell anyone else what was going on.

“Don’t dismiss it out of hand, young man!” she admonished him. “Now shoo. You have an early morning tomorrow, no?”

As he saw her to the door, he looked at the clock. 10:45 p.m. and he was going to have to be up at 5 a.m. to open by 6:30 a.m.

Fun.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, he woke up earlier than he thought he would. Deciding to make the most of it, he decided to take inventory of the store’s back room, trying to figure out what the store needed the most and how much it needed from the next shipment.

It took more time than he expected, and Usnavi was so engrossed in his task that he didn’t hear the phone ringing at such an abnormal time. He was so engrossed, in fact, that 6:30 almost slid right by him, and he had to hustle to open the store on time.

He didn’t see the phone’s message until 9:30, when the early-morning rush had died down and it was still too early for most people to be out shopping for things they’d need later in the day. As soon as he saw there was a message on the answering machine, he dropped everything and listened to it.

His parents were getting much worse, the nurse said. The night had been rough on them both, and their fevers had battled the nurses and were still hanging on. It was draining both of them of their energy to keep going, and they were seriously concerned at the fact that nothing seemed to be working.

Usnavi closed up the shop immediately. He didn’t even take the time to tell anyone where he was going, and took the first train to the hospital.

He got there in time to watch his mother crash as the fever won. The door over, his father also began to crash, and another team rushed to him, a few seconds behind the team that was attending to his wife.

By lunch, Usnavi was an orphan.

A kind nurse led Usnavi out of his mother’s room, and offered to make a phone call for him, but quickly realized that Usnavi was in shock and started doing little things to treat him for that. She wrapped a blanket around him, and got him a cup of black coffee. Usnavi couldn’t even process that the coffee was there, but he gained some awareness back when the Styrofoam cup slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he said automatically, and the nurse gave a small, sad smile.

“It’s okay, son,” she responded. “There’s always more to go around.”


	4. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter is frank discussions of grief, and also some vomiting. If either bother you, turn back now.

When Usnavi came back to himself more, he asked to make a phone call. Abuela picked up at the first ring, and he choked over the news that both of his parents had died within minutes of each other.

He could hear her heart break over the phone, but she told him to stay there. She would go pick him up.

Still feeling lost, and not entirely out of the shock, Usnavi agreed. He was being asked to sign things as the next of kin and he didn’t know what to do next. He almost picked up the pen to sign, but the kind nurse who had given him the coffee advised him not to, and shot daggers at the man who had asked him to sign.

Usnavi was sure that she’d prevented something bad from happening, but he didn’t know what, and briefly he worried that she’d put herself at risk doing so.

Abuela showed up then, and pulled Usnavi into her arms. She rubbed his back, and he felt his eyes prickle, but as soon as he felt the sensation it was just… gone. He didn’t have any tears. He was confused. He didn’t know how to process this.

Abuela herded him out of the hospital. The number was still good, she told the nurses, and they could call it or her number when the death certificates were ready.

She got him out of the hospital and to the subway station, but when he automatically put his hands into his pockets for his fare’s tokens she smacked his hand away.

“None of that,” Abuela said. “Today, I am taking care of you.”

“But –”

“Your life will be hard enough these coming months,” Abuela said kindly. “Let me do these few things for you, nieto.”

Usnavi’s throat closed up, and he nodded, unable to do anything else.

They couldn’t find seats on the subway; it was still the lunch rush. Instead, Usnavi stood, easily reaching the metal beam to hold onto, and Abuela held onto him. Usnavi wasn’t super into being touched or held, hadn’t been since he was a kid, but now the way that Abuela held onto him felt needed, felt necessary, and he held onto her with the arm that wasn’t grabbing the rail.

He must have gotten lost in thought, because the next thing he felt was her tugging on his sleeve as the subway doors opened.

She took his hand, and Abuela led him to her home, where she ushered him into her living room while she went into the other room to make some phone calls. He zoned out again, and then there was Mrs. Rosario and Nina in the room, and Nina still had her backpack on, and she was running into his arms.

“Usnavi, I’m so sorry!” Nina said, and Usnavi held onto her.

“I am too, Usnavi,” Mrs. Rosario said. “Kevin and Benny will be over after the end of their shifts, Usnavi. Is there anything we can do?”

Usnavi shrugged.

“I’ve never – I don’t know what needs to happen next,” Usnavi said, shrugging. “I don’t think they had wills, or life insurance or anything like that. I don’t know any… they didn’t talk about any of this with me. They… they weren’t… Dad just turned 40 last year.”

He grabbed a pillow and held it as Nina went to sit next to him. Usnavi had to breathe hard a few times, feeling sick to his stomach, and he spent a few long moments looking anywhere but at Mrs. Rosario.

“Have you… have you buried anyone, Mrs. Rosario?”

Mrs. Rosario shook her head.

“My parents stayed in Puerto Rico, with my sisters, and they’re still alive. When Kevin’s father died, we went back for the funeral, but Kevin’s mother mostly took care of the arrangements.”

“I can help,” Abuela Claudia said, stepping back in the room. “It was some years ago, but I still remember when I had to bury my Jose.”

Nina looked floored, like she hadn’t realized that Abuela Claudia had once been married.

“The funeral parlor I used was good to me. I can call them today, and we can go to them tomorrow, when you have your parents’ death certificates. Tonight, you and I should sit down with Mr. Rosario and go over the finances of the store, and your parents’ bank accounts,” Abuela said. “You need time to grieve, nieto, but as their son you need to be the person making these decisions.”

Usnavi nodded, feeling a little angry at being asked to make those decisions so soon. Their bodies weren’t even cold yet, but… their bodies…

He was gonna be sick.

Usnavi ran to the bathroom, barely managing to close the door behind him as he knelt on the ground and lost what little was in his system. He stayed there for a few moments, shaking, until his knees started hurting from the cold, hard tile in Abuela’s bathroom, and then stood up and flushed the toilet. There was a cup near the sink, and Usnavi used it to rinse his mouth before he left.

When he got out, Nina was waiting for him tearfully.

“Usnavi, you’re not gonna die too, are you?” she asked.

He shook his head and hugged her.

“Nah, I was around my parents for ages and I didn’t get what they had,” Usnavi said. “Today’s just been overwhelming, kinda.”

Nina understood that, and she squeezed him extra hard.

“Good. I don’t wanna lose my older brother.”

Usnavi wanted to comfort her, but he didn’t have any words to give. He didn’t even have any for himself, to express how he felt. He expected to be sad, to be mourning them, but it had just been so quick, and so sudden, and now he just felt empty.

“Mom said Dad would be over soon, and Abuela’s making some food for everyone,” Nina said. “Is there anything you want?”

Usnavi shrugged. He wanted his mom’s guacamole, but now that he knew he was never getting it again, that he was never seeing her again – that still hadn’t entirely hit him, but now it was coming in pieces – but if he never saw her again, or his dad, then he wanted to preserve the last few bits about them that he could.

Nina led Usnavi back to the living room, and he just sat there on Abuela’s couch for some time, feeling lost. He knew the girls were all worried, Nina and Mrs. Rosario and Abuela, but he couldn’t help it. There were all of these questions that he didn’t have answers to, all of these problems that he didn’t know the solutions for, and the one thought that stood above the rest was:

_What do I do now?_


	5. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usnavi's not the only one who lost a loved one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's important to note here that while I am dating a Dominican-American man, I did not get to ask him about funerals/grieving/death, and so everything in here is based on what I can find through Google.

When Usnavi got out of the bathroom, Abuelo shoved a glass of ginger ale in his hands and told him to drink up. She said it was good for upset stomachs, and even though he didn’t drink soda that much, he drank anyway.

He owed Abuela that much, anyway.

While the food was cooking, Abuela went through what would happen next: the wake, the funeral, the burial, the costs and expenses. As word spread through the neighborhood, people would show up to grieve and mourn with Usnavi, and to remember the good times they had with his parents. To Usnavi, this sounded intensely invasive and wrong ­– he was having trouble even processing the death, how dare he be expected to be sociable right now – but Abuela assured him that he wouldn’t have to say much; he just needed to stand there and act like the dutiful son. Other people didn’t need to hear him, they needed to feel heard.

It still sounded terrible.

He hadn’t even had the time to go change. Usnavi was still in the same clothes he’d been wearing when he opened the store that morning, the loud red shirt hanging open, showing his undershirt, and it seemed that they both recognized that at the same time.

Abuela shooed him home and told him to come back wearing black.

Usnavi fumbled with his keys at the front door, but made it inside. He walked in, and the entire apartment felt… off. Like there was something missing. Like his mother’s voice carrying in from the kitchen as she reminded her men to take their shoes off at the door. Like his father’s booming laugh.

The grief hit Usnavi like a blow to the chest, and he had to sit down on the couch for a few minutes before he could keep going.

As Usnavi went through his wardrobe, he found a black shirt. No white on it, no holes, it would do. He put on his church shoes and freshened up a little more.

Another mistake.

Going to the bathroom meant going right past his parents’ room, and the door was still wide open, the way it had been after he rushed his parents to the hospital. A second wave of grief hit Usnavi, and this one didn’t knock him down, but it left him trembling as he stared at his parents’ bed.

_If only… if only I could have convinced them to see the doctor sooner… maybe they’d still be here._

The thought sank in his throat and formed a stone. It was his fault. He should have pushed. His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists, and Usnavi pressed his forehead against the frame of his parents’ door.

_What do I do now?_

Usnavi went back out to the living room, and saw his dad’s old black kangol hat on the coffee table. He picked it up, and impulsively decided to wear it. For courage, he went to the fridge and pulled out one of his father’s leftover shitty Coronas.

His parents had faced worse, coming from the Dominican Republic when his mother was pregnant. They’d come to this country with nothing, and they’d worked to the point where they had a small store that served the entire community. They never had much, but they always were there for their friends and neighbors, even when it made the month a little harder.

His parents had been good people. At very least he, the worthless son who let them die, could make sure that they had a good send off.

Usnavi picked himself up, shook himself off, and went back out of the house, locking the door as he went. When he walked back to Abuela’s house, he noticed a group of people around the door and a swarm of activity.

He was noticed before he made it to the first step, and then there were a ton of people shaking his hand and offering their condolences. Usnavi stood there, dazed, until Abuela came and rescued him by guiding him into her living room.

Oddly, the first thing Usnavi saw was that the TV had been moved. Where the TV usually was, there were now two large pictures of his parents, one of each, and numbly Usnavi wondered where Abuela had gotten them ­– he’d never seen them before.

Then, he was being pulled into someone’s arms.

Oh god.

His aunt.

Tia Josie was his mother’s sister. She was always working now, trying to provide for her and his cousin, Sonny, since Sonny’s dad had walked out on them. Everything had happened so fast he’d forgotten to call her, forgotten to make sure she knew.

She sank into his arms, wailing, and Usnavi struggled to keep them both upright.

“My sister!” Tia Josie screamed, “my older sister! She was… she was… she was sick, but she never told me it was that bad!” She started sobbing on his shoulders, and her sobs shook them both. “I never… I didn’t get to say _goodbye_.”

The sheer emotion in his aunt’s voice started breaking what little strength Usnavi had, and he started crying too. He didn’t know why he was crying, just that the grief seemed unbearable. Usnavi knew this third wave was strong, was much bigger than he was, and this time he didn’t fight it, not even when he felt Sonny try to hug Usnavi and Tia Josie at the same time.

“I’m so sorry,” Usnavi whispered, “I should have done better, I should have insisted they seek help, I should have…”

“No no no no no,” Tia Josie said, her face still buried in Usnavi’s shirt. “You know you did what you could. The other day I was speaking with Maria, and she swore that she was on the mend. Don’t you ever blame yourself, bebe.”

His aunt’s words soothed him. Usnavi wasn’t entirely convinced, but at very least, Tia Josie didn’t blame him, and that meant more to him than he realized. He was able to take a deep breath for the first time since the ambulance took his parents away, and then he realized that Sonny was tugging at the bottom of Usnavi’s shirt, like he used to do when Sonny was younger.

“Yeah, Sonny?” Usnavi asked.

“Is that… is that Tio Federico’s kat?” Sonny asked, and Usnavi realized he’d totally forgotten he was wearing it.

“Yeah, it is,” Usnavi answered, and Tia Josie looked at it like she was seeing it for the first time.

“It suits you, Usnavi,” she said. “You really look like your father when you wear it like that.”

That response floored Usnavi. He’d worn it for comfort, to feel like some part of his father was still with him.

“Thank you, Tia,” Usnavi choked out, and this time he buried his head in his tia’s shoulder.

It was good to be around family.


End file.
